Harry Potter and Vengeance of Dead
by way of life
Summary: Betrayed and manipulated, Harry meets a silent end. But even in death Fate seems to have plans. Plans which Death itself does not like. Caught in the struggle between Fate and Death itself, what is a mortal to do? Time travel and redo fic.
1. Chapter 1

IMPOERTANT A/N: This chapter is written in Third Person POV under the assumption that the third person is a being more than human and hence even when the characters are revealed; the perception of this higher being leaks through.

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Total Words: 6866

Written By: Way Of Life

Unbetaed

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In a realm that did not exist, populated by those who could not populate and ruled by the One that should be no-one, a recently dead man was beginning to wake up. His prone form was lying on the land that resembled no feature known to the living. The soil beneath the body was granular and dusty but yet firm and hard. It seemed as if the life had been drained out of the very earth, leaving it as a colorless and endless mass. It's stretched as far as eyes could see and gave no hint that the landscape ever changed.

The form that laid there, on the dead and colorless surface; motionless since it had first manifested in the realm, started to show signs, that it was, indeed not as dead as the surface it lay upon. It started small; with a slight twitch of the index finger at first, but it became more prominent with twitching and turning of the fingers, thumbs and toes.

As if to prove that the form that lay defenseless and oblivious to its condition was indeed alive, the form shifted its weight as if a person asleep. The shift in weight must have caused the unconscious form to subconsciously notice the uncomfortable position it was in, as the figure started to squirm slightly in its place. The squirming increased as the figure gained consciousness until it finally stopped and the figure opened its eyes to gaze in the realm that it was now in.

The first thing that the figure noticed, before it opened its eyes, was the hard texture of the surface it lay upon and how uncomfortable it was in that position; it was what had caused him to be conscious again. As its consciousness returned, its senses expanded and became more vigilant. The figure opened its eyes slowly, almost warily, as if due to instincts.

A colorless view met his sight, as he gazed in the unknown; it was as if the entire realm had been bleached of all its color. The sky, if it could be called that, was the same color as the ground; if only a few tones lighter all over, but few shades darker deep in the horizon.

The figure turned its head around, searching for something of semblance but found none. All around the figure, the same landscape stretched. The granular, hard and dusty ground was all that belonged to the land, while a bleached and dull sheet was all that formed the sky. As it took in the surrounding, a small frown marred his face, the only outward sign of the confusion that it felt. The figure did not know where he was? Who he was? Or why he was 'here'? Wherever 'here' was.

The figure began to sit upright, but rustling of his clothes drew its attention and the figure looked down to notice the clothes that he was wearing. Whatever he had worn before was unrecognizable now; he could recognize that it was some sort of t-shirt and jeans but beyond that nothing was recognizable, except the fabrics. The clothes the figure had worn were tattered, scraped and torn. Whatever was left of the clothes was covered in dust and grime; beyond that the rest was covered in blood, making it impossible to even guess the original color.

Though the condition of clothes suggested that something worse than worst had happened, but the condition of the man's body spoke otherwise. The figure did not feel the pain that his clothes implied, he did not feel the wounds that the blood stains spoke of, he did not feel the fear and terror that had obviously came with the conditions that his clothes told about; all he felt was confusion, no fear, no pain, no nothing. This confused the figure even more as he stood up to take in his surrounding once again.

But before the figure could do more than observe his surroundings, he heard footsteps coming towards him. The eerie silence that encompassed the lands caused the light footsteps to be heard loud and clear. The figure turned to face the source of the noise that had breached the unnatural silence, looking for some companionship and answers.

The figure squinted its eyes for a better and clear picture, but it was hard for him to figure out in all the mist that seemed to envelop the approaching person. Figure moved, so as to stand straight from the position he was sitting in. He made no move to approach the distinct figure, his instinct seeping in through the blockage on his memory.

Time passed slowly, as the recently undead man waited for the approaching figure to reach him. The mist that had enveloped the unknown man seemed to move with him, as he approached the person who now undead.

As the unknown man approached the figure, the recently undead man tried to gaze through the mist but all his efforts proved to be in vain; as all he could see was the shadow of a man that was imprinted on the mist. Finally, the mist stopped when the man stopped at a distance of few paces from him.

"Welcome to my realm." A deep voice resonated in the empty and hollow environment. It was as if those words were a command for the mist, as it started shifting. It grew lighter in the centre and heavier at the edges as it swirled and moved to reveal the man that it had enveloped.

The undead man stared owlishly at the figure that was now revealed from beneath the covers of mist. Whatever he had expected the person in mist to be like, the person that stood in front of him, was not it. This man looked younger than him but his face told a different story; it was as if it was etched in stone, in white marble, it was so smooth. There were no lines that showed his age or his life. His eyes were hard but quirked at the edges at something of amusement.

"You are doing better than most." The same voice said again but this time it was not the environment it resonated in, but it was within him that he felt the effect of the voice. The now undead man shook his head as if to clear it and observed the man in front of him shrewdly, calculating him.

The man was young, that was for sure, barely in his mid twenties. He had a lanky frame with broad shoulders, a body of an athlete, a swimmer perhaps. He stood tall, towering over the undead man's small frame by a couple of inches. His hard grey eyes appraising and calculating. His facial features elegant and aristocratic with high cheekbones, straight and sleek nose and hard jaw line.

It was weird that the undead felt only confusion and not fear or wariness that had seeped in him before. "Who are you?" He asked before he could think and then to maintain an image of control the undead continued, "Where am I and… and why am I here?"

The unknown man almost smiled, but amusement was clearly lurking behind the stony smooth features.

"Because you died." The man deadpanned, not bothering to deliver such news with even a little compassion. It was as if, showing compassion was a bother that he did not want. It seemed as if saying those words was almost a chore to him.

"I …died?" the undead said but it came out as a question. The undead then looked down, as if searching within him for something that would confirm that he was really dead, perhaps a gaping hole in his body or a severed neck like, like… he tried to remember, who it was that the severed neck resembled too but could not remember. His confusion escalated. Why was he not panicking? It seemed that confusion was the only emotion that he was feeling. "I… don't feel… dead." The undead said.

The unknown man raised an eyebrow; almost asking what should being dead feel like, but decided against it and waited for the undead to continue. "I mean, I don't feel battered and bruised."

"Death is not meant to be painful." The man said, as if he was telling a universal truth. "Sorrow," he continued, "is the territory of Life." The unknown man finished, a small frown on his face notifying that he was unimpressed with the answer.

Under normal circumstances, the undead would have referred this unknown man to St. Mungo's without delay, but these were not normal circumstances. Here he was, lying on a creepy looking surface (if soil could look creepy?) with equally creepy environment and almost no knowledge about himself but yet he had a compulsion to trust everything this man said. "So what happens now?"

"Whatever you decide." Replied the unknown man, it seemed as if he was already bored with this conversation.

"Umm….?" The undead did not know what that meant and it must have reflected upon his face as the unknown man mumbled in exasperation, "This is why I use reapers."

"You are dead." The unknown man said and sighed. "You can stay in the mortal world as a ghost..." But the undead shook his head wildly in negative. The unknown man sighed again and continued, "You can take birth again." This time the unknown man stopped on his own accord, not wanting to be interrupted again.

The undead frowned, "What do you mean, I can be born again?"

The unknown man pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation, "I mean exactly what I say. Have you never heard about reincarnation? Rebirth?"

"Oh!" the undead man said, embarrassed now by his question. "No, I don't want that."

"You can also pass into the void." The unknown man said. His voice deadpanned, as if he knew that this undead would not choose this option; very few chose to pass into the void now, unlike the earlier time when everyone chose to be one with the nature and creator.

"What do you mean?" The undead repeated a little embarrassed.

"You will cease to exist; your soul will once again be a part of nature and will be one with the Creator." The unknown man repeated, already knowing the answer.

The undead looked at the man in front of him dubiously; he did not want to stop existing. "I think I'll pass."

"You can stay here then and live with all your loved ones in 'afterlife'. This will be your workspace; it will be what you want it to be." The unknown man said.

At those words, a light entered the undead man's eyes, "I'll take that." He said quickly, too quickly for unknown man's liking.

The unknown man narrowed his eyes and observed the undead shrewdly, "Do you remember anything, from your life?" He asked, his suspicion growing.

"No." The undead answered quickly and it earned him even more suspicion from the unknown man. Under the hard stare of the man standing in front of him, the undead relented, "I only remember a few things; minor things."

The stone hard eyes lost all their light and grew cold; the twitch of eyes that signified amusement was gone, only to be replaced by something akin to anger. "The decision of the soul has to remain unbiased, Fate." He announced loudly, his eyes boring in horizon, his voice cold with fury and hatred. "He should not have had his memories while he made the decision." The man said again while he gazed beyond the undead, in the depths of horizon.

The unknown man then snapped his fingers and the mist that was swirling along his body shifted and raced to the place the unknown man was looking.

No sooner had the mist left the bodiceof the man, an unnatural presence seeped into the atmosphere. It was dark, deep and heavy. It seemed that the air was suddenly too thick to breath, and too heavy to stand in. The undead sagged in his place, as the presence made itself known, it was too heavy, too deep and too large to even fathom what it was. The undead drew deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He forced his eyes to open and search for the unknown man, to see how he was fairing.

The undead was surprised to see that the unknown man was not affected at all. He was still staring off in the space where the mist had run off to. "Y… o….u…?"

The chocking noises made by the undead caught the unknown man's attention and at once the heavy presence subsided, it was not gone but was present at a manageable level in the background. "My apologies."

"Who…Who are you?" Asked the undead, a little afraid, having connected the dots.

"I thought you were supposed to be smart." The unknown man answered. He waited for the realization to hit the undead but when it did not he decided to tell him. "You are dead. Who should you meet when you die?"

"You are…"The undead's eyes widened as he came to the conclusion. "…Death."

"Yes, though I prefer Thanatos or Mrityu." Death replied in a nonchalant manner. "They are much more sophisticated."

"Now that the decision has been made, I believe it's time for you to get back your memories." Thantos replied with an edge in his voice. "Shall we Mr. Potter?" He asked and everything went black for the recently undead Mr. Potter.

Death watched as the undead blacked out and fell; as the mortal started remembering all of his life and sighed. '_Can't mortals for once just skip the theatrics?'_ Thanatos thought. He allowed the mortal few moments to stabilize before he prodded the undead in the shoulder to wake him up.

Harry Potter woke up for the second time in the land ruled by Death. His head ached from the rush of the memories that had come when he had heard his name. He was still disoriented by his fall.

"Get up Mr. Potter; I have other matters to attend too." Harry remembered then who the speaker was and quickly stood up.

"It would seem that you collected all three hallows before you died." Thantos said, his voice carrying a little gleeful happiness.

"…It would seem so, to me too." The undead answered warily.

"That would make you Master of Death, would it not?" Death asked, more likely prodded.

"… I don't think so." The undead answered, with a little more confidence than before.

"You don't?" Death asked with confusion clear in his voice but the gleeful happiness that was eminent before was gone. "Do explain."

"I don't think that things that you gave away to trick the Peverell brothers into dying, would be the things that would allow someone to be your Master." The undead answered, confident in his reasoning.

Mrityu stared at the undead shrewdly, analyzing him, observing him and calculating him. "You would be correct in your conclusion undead." Death answered finally, coolly, seemingly done with his calculation.

"Collecting all three hallows allows you a fifth option here, in your 'afterlife', Mr. Potter." Thanatos said. It seemed he had an apparent dislike for the word 'afterlife' as he made a face every time he uttered it. "But due to Fate's meddling you remembered snippets from your life which colored your judgment."

Potter's temper flared as he heard about Fates meddling, it did not matter whether he would have wanted that fifth option or not, what was important was that he had been manipulated and had not been allowed his own free will, that he was being controlled even after he had died.

All his life, Harry had been manipulated and controlled, at first by Dumbledore and then by his 'friends' and ministry. To break away from their bindings he had had to leave the magical world and live like a muggle. He had to hide the most important thing that made him, him, his magic. He had never liked it, he had never forgotten it and it was what that had finally caused his death.

Shaking his head to clear it, Harry Potter fumed inside. "I don't want to be controlled."

Death stared at him once again, "The fifth option that I would have gave you was to become a reaper, that what hallows allow."

Thantos then pondered for a moment about the wizard that was standing in front of him. He did not want to be controlled but yet he had lived a life that was barely his own.

Death was miffed at this undead when he had been human, he had cheated him twice, once when he was a baby and next time when he was seventeen. Death had not liked it one bit, it was Tom Riddle all over again. But there was a difference in this case, this human had never once wanted to cheat him, instead this undead had walked into his certain peril the second time.

This human was forced by actions of others to cheat him. This was the only reason that Thantos had not taken actions against him when he was human, for it would have been unfair and Death was always fair. Death might be cruel, Death might be merciless, Death might be unforgiving but Death was not unfair, that was Life's deal, Death was always fair.

Besides this, this undead had returned Tom Riddle's soul back to him. That was one person who had suffered one of the worst fates possible due to his own actions. Mrityu pitied the naïve men like Tom Riddle, he really did; but he hated them even more and Tom Riddle knew this directly.

Mrityu observed the undead carefully once again. He could give this undead a chance but did he deserved it; this would have to be seen. "You mastered all the hallows Mr. Potter, this allows me a little more leverage in your condition. May be I can help you."

"You can?" asked the undead hopefully.

After a while, Thantos replied. "I give you a sixth choice Mr. Potter." He stared at the undead again, his eyes calculating. "I offer you to be Death."

"What?" the undead asked baffled. He did not understand what Thantos was playing at, but he knew something was amiss.

"There are many realms Mr. Potter and in all of them I am the only manifestation of Death." Thantos began, "In all these worlds different kinds of magycs exist and some of those magic can actually summon me and at times bind me." Thantos paused to observe the undead; he wanted to be sure that the undead understood what he was talking about.

"As you can understand, binding me would cause all sorts of chaos." Thantos began still eyeing the undead, "So to avoid that, I have one of my children personify me and masquerade as Death." Death said as he stared again in space as if searching for someone. "So when someone summons me, they actually summon them." Thantos then tore his gaze away from wherever he was looking and stared back at the undead.

"As of now Ignotus masquerades as me, but for quite some time now, he has wanted to pass into the void. It was only for lack of suitable heir that he has remained here to help me." Harry heard a set of footsteps approaching him from afar. "So if you'll agree, Ignotus will be able to pass on and you'll take his place."

"But I am not your child?" the undead said. His confused and frozen brain did its best but could not come up with a better reply.

Thantos blinked at that, "My children are those that have been marked by me, if you choose to accept this offer you'll become my child and receive my mark."

The undead heard as the footsteps came closer while Mrityu spoke. He noticed when the tiny form of the person came into view and as it grew larger steadily. The undead then turned his attention back to Thantos as his overly shocked brain unfroze and started working again. "So to escape control of someone, I'll have to subject myself to someone else's control?" the undead growled out.

"Hardly." A new voice said and the undead turned to face this new arrival. "You won't be under anyone's control. It would be like working for someone, you just have to follow some rules."

"And who might you be?" the undead asked. He did not appreciate the views of this new arrival. '_Why can't my life ever be simple'_ the undead thought.

"Ignotus Peverell, Death incarnate, at your service." The man said with a smile. Ignotus then turned to face Thantos, "Why have you chosen him anyway? I don't see anything special." He then turned towards the undead, "No offence was meant." And then turned back to face Thantos without waiting for a reply.

"Do be kind, Ignotus. He's your descendent after all." Death said with a slight smirk. It was far too humorous situation for him to not tell Ignotus.

"He's my descendent?" Asked Ignotus, skeptical of Thantos' claims.

"Yes. He inherited the cloak that I gave you." The dubious look that Ignotus was giving the undead reduced a little. "He then went on and collected all the three hallows." Thantos added a little morosely.

Ignotus' eyes widened for a moment and then he sighed. "So you are the one that Fate has been messing with lately." His expression then shifted from shock to guilt. "I am sorry; you got pinned with her shit for no fault of yours."

"Wh-why are you apologizing?" the undead stammered out, once he overcame the shock that someone was apologizing to him for the way his life had been.

Ignotus glanced at Thantos who nodded in approval. "Fate has always waned total control over Death and Time. So for total control of Death, she approached me to help her out, which I refused." He let out a defeated sigh. "So to get back at me, she created a prophecy and tied it to you."

"And you let her do it?" the undead asked, seething in anger. He had had a crappy life because someone wanted revenge for something he did not even do.

"What could have I done Mr. Potter?" Ignotus replied in calm subdued voice. "Fates had you wrapped so entirely in her prophecy that no one besides her could have touched you."

"Don't give me this shit." The undead growled. "You are Fucking Death." He screamed. "How could you have done nothing?"

The heavy presence that held left came back at that moment, making Harry fall to his knees. He gasped for breath as the presence intensified making Harry fall completely on the ground.

"Do remember your place undead." Thanatos said in perfectly calm voice. "You are talking to Death personified."

"Let him be, Thantos." Ignotus asked Thantos. "I wish to explain myself."

Thanatos eyed Ignotus for some time but the presence retreated. "Suite yourself." Thanatos said.

"Mr. Potter" Ignotus began, "What would you have had me done?" He asked. "Nobody could have touched you. Those near you were tied securely enough, that nothing we could have done would have made a difference."

"You could have done something." The undead said in a defeated voice.

"No." It was Thanatos who spoke this time but undead was not the only one who was surprised by the answer.

"What do you mean Thanatos?" Ignotus asked baffled. He had carried the guilt since the night Potters were killed.

"We could not have done anything at first." Thantos answered, still gazing deep into the horizon.

"At first?" Ignotus asked. He did not know what Thantos was talking about.

"Yes, at first." Thantos said.

"But since 1995," Thantos began, "when Mr. Potter here destroyed the time turners, I have had hope that when he finally arrived here, I could do something to help him." Thanatos answered. "Do you remember Ignotus, when those contraptions were causing Knonos a lot of trouble?"

"Yes, the time stream constantly changed due to their existence and he was unable to control it." Answered Ignotus, not yet understanding where Thantos was going with this.

"Do you remember what happened when Mr. Potter here destroyed those contraptions?" Thantos again asked, urging Ignotus to make the connection.

It would seem that his urging worked as there was a sudden shine in Ignotus' eyes and a hopeful smile on his face. "Oh! I see where you are going. But would it work?" Ignotus didn't want to be too hopeful in case this chance did not materialize. "Kronos hates it, he's never going to agree."

Thantos gave a gleeful smile, "I have been trying to persuade Kronos since that day. He had been very resilient initially but he yielded later." Then his face darkened a little. "After all, Fate has been after him too." He then looked at Ignotus, "Besides, he did not want to be indebted to a mortal."

"What are you two talking about?" a very confused undead asked. He did not know what these two were talking about; all he knew was that they were talking about the night when Sirius died.

"It's like this Mr. Potter; when you and your merry band of friends destroyed the time turners, you had Kronos indebted to you; Just as returning Tom's soul caused Thanatos here to be indebted to you." Ignotus Peverell answered, his hope creeping into his voice a little, while Thanatos narrowed his eyes at the Death Incarnate.

"Kronos is the God of time, correct?" Asked the undead, to check weather his facts were straight or not. "And you are indebted to me?" the undead asked Thanatos.

"Wrong Mr. Potter. Kronos is not the God of Time; Kronos is Time as I am Death. He just uses the name because he likes it, just like I use Thantos or Mrityu." Thantos answered. He knew mortals were a bit slow and so he would wait.

"And no, Thantos owes you no debt." Ignotus answered the second of mortal's question. He had caused the confusion after all. "When he did not increase your misery for cheating him twice, you became indebted to him." Thanatos nodded at that. "Thus, when you killed off Riddle, you just paid off your debt."

Undead eyed Thantos warily, "Okay, So Kronos is Time and you don't owe me and vice versa?" Thanatos nodded again; finally the mortal was catching up.

"So how does this help me?" the undead asked. He was able to see the dots but was unable to make the connection between them.

Ignotus wanted to face palm, but he controlled his urge. More than 1000 years as Death, had caused him to forget how slow the mortals actually were. "Mr. Potter," Ignotus began, "What we are talking about is time travel."

"Time travel?" The undead asked disbelievingly. He had an experience with time travel and it was very confusing. "If I were to change things, then too, to me everything must remain the same." He continued, remembering what he could about time turners. "How could I do that? And even if I did, my life would remain the same."

"Mr. Potter." Thantos said in cool and calm voice, "Rules of mortals are not meant for us." He eyed the undead carefully, wondering whether he understood or not, he was so thick after all. "How it is done, why it is done, is not of your concern, right now."

"The matter of concern for you is, whether you would take this option or not?" Ignotus asked the undead. He really wanted the undead's life to be much better than it had been in his previous life.

"Yes" The undead answered without thinking. "I'll do it."

Ignotus Peverell face palmed this time, at the foolishness that this undead was showing while Thanatos narrowed his eyes. This undead's habit of running into things without thinking them through, would really chew onto Thanatos' nerves.

"It seems he is not capable enough." Thanatos said as if making a casual observation. "We can't waste our chance on a man like this."

Those words struck like thorns. He was being called useless by Death himself. If that was not unflattering, he did not know what was.

"Give him one chance at least." Ignotus pleaded or begged more likely. He knew that the chances were slim, but he had to try.

"Do not bend to your emotions Ignotus." Thanatos' voice rose slightly. "Remember who you are, who you represent, at all times."

Thanatos turned to face the undead, but his words were for Ignotus. "Death is fair, Death is even." He scrutinized the undead as a biologist scrutinizing a dead toad. "Death is beginning, Death is end." He scrutinized him with curiosity and mild revulsion. "Death does not rushes; Death does not waits." He turned to face Ignotus again. "Death does not forgives; Death does not forgets."

Thanatos stared at Ignotus, "This undead fails on every value. He's unfair, he's uneven." Boring Ignotus with his dark, obsidian eyes, "He does not begins, he does not ends." Thanatos ignored the undead in question completely. "He rushes, he waits; he forgives and he forgets." His voice turned cold, as if mist itself dripped from his voice. "On what basis, do you judge him? He's a liability, if nothing more."

Ignotus sighed in defeat. He knew it would be useless to argue with Thanatos. After all, every point that had been raised, were a valid ones. He turned to face the undead, pondering what to do. He took his time, thinking for a solution, he knew rushing into things was not an option.

"His life was not his own." Ignotus said an idea struck him. "His death was not his own." He continued as he scrutinized the undead carefully. "His final choice was not his own." He turned to face Thanatos. "From such a person, how can we expect to have our values, when he did not even live?"

Thanatos raised an eyebrow at that. While the statement was true in its entirety, the fact remained the same. This undead was worthless for their purpose. It would require quite some time to undo the harm that had been done to his psyche.

The undead had been raised, to develop a psyche that put everyone else above oneself. His psyche was such that it had no worth for oneself. He had been manipulated into developing a personality that was prejudiced, bigoted and foolish with an unhealthy large dose of hero complex.

The undead was made to believe that he had to be rash and act before thinking. It was truly unfortunate that as time passed he slowly believed it too and developed a personality that his manipulators wanted.

Thanatos knew all this very well and if Ignotus was suggesting what he thought he was suggesting then the once mortal man was only thinking only from his heart not from his mind.

"What are you suggesting?" He asked, his eyebrow still raised.

Ignotus Peverell had faced many difficult decisions in his long undead existence. He had denied the Fates themselves, he had wiped out civilizations after civilizations but of all the things that he had done, this decision was the most difficult one.

It was probably because all those things had been the right thing to do or they had lived out their given time. But this was not such thing, it was what he felt was his duty towards his last descendent. It was what he felt he had to do. "Give me some time." He said. "I'll train him in our ways."

Thanatos stared hard at his incarnate. "Take a look at the undead." He replied calmly. "He stands there still, while we talk about him as if he was not here." Ignotus looked at undead with pity in his eyes. "And yet he stands and listens." Thanatos put a little force in his words, to make his point clear. "Saying nothing."

"He's has been in your presence twice." Ignotus replied a little agitated. "His mind has suffered."

Thanatos sighed and said, "He's broken."

"He can be mended." Ignotus replied quickly. "He can be trained in the ways of Death."

"That won't be mending." Thanatos replied slowly, as if talking to a child. "That will be molding." Resuming his normal speech he said, "That won't be him."

"That would be his decision." Replied Ignotus, he was still agitated. He turned to face the undead and snapped his fingers and darkness overcame the undead as he blacked out and fell.

Thanatos raised an eyebrow at that. "Not much difference from his previous state." He commented nonchalantly.

Ignotus turned to Thantos, "It's because of me that he had a life that he had." Ignotus began. He knew there was nothing better than truth to convince Thanatos. He was ever seeing, ever present, after all. "Never have I regretted my decisions as your incarnate. But this time, my choice did not affect me, it affected him."

"He was cursed even before he was born, because of a choice that I made." Ignotus continued. "He did not get to even live." He stared hard at Thanatos, "The life that was supposed to be his, was never his own." His voice was full of guilt. "All because of a decision that I made."

"Do you regret your decision then?" Thanatos asked, his voice calm but distant.

"No." Ignotus replied. "That's the concern." He stood firm but his voice shook. "I will make the same decision again if I have too, because of who I am and what my duty is." He gestured towards the undead, implying the cruelty that had been bestowed upon him, even when unborn. "And again this will happen."

Thantos sighed, he knew what his incarnate had said was true, down to the last word. "Take him with you then." He almost smiled at the sudden shine in the eyes of his incarnate. Almost. "Train him in our ways. Make him such, that he's worthy of being named Death."

His decision made, Thantos turned and went back to where he had come from. He had things to do, dead to maim, people to kill and lives that were just waiting to be made miserable.

Ignotus watched as Thantos dissolved into the horizon. He turned to face undead, who was lying dead on the ground, and smiled. It was time to wake the undead up. He snapped his fingers and the undead took a sudden breath in, as if a man taking his first breath after being saved by drowning.

"What happened?" The undead asked, his voice shaking and quivering. He knew that whatever had happened to him had been caused by Ignotus. He had heard the sound of fingers being snapped after all and no matter how slow he was supposed to be, he was no fool; he had made the connection easily, once he was back alive.

"There are matters that are not meant for your ears, Mr. Potter." Ignotus replied patiently. There was no need for the undead to know how deep his guilt ran, or that he would repeat the choice that made the undead's life miserable. It made him sad, but being Death incarnate was not as easy as it sounds.

"Why are you helping me?" The undead asked with tremors in his voice. He was wary of the being that had taken an apparent interest in his life and destiny.

Ignotus was amused at the undead's question. "We told you already." He replied with amusement clear in his voice. "You have been wronged." His expressions sobered a little. "We are just trying to rectify it as much as we can."

"So you are doing it out of the goodness of your heart?" The undead asked with disbelief clear in his voice. "You want me believe" the undead raised both his eyebrows, "that 'Death', who is just; wants to rectify for something that he did not do?"

Ignotus sighed, sometimes; undeads were too nosey for their own good. "That's not the only reason." He replied tiredly. "And there is no need for you to know the other reasons." He messaged his forehead to calm the oncoming headache.

The undead bristled. "I won't do anything until I know what your reasons are." He threatened with his voice fierce and challenging.

"You cannot force Death to do your bidding." Ignotus replied as a sad smile graced his face. "You cannot manipulate me." He stared at the undead with pity in his eyes. "You have already been manipulated once, after your death." He sighed again. "You can choose to follow that path, or create a new one." He stared at the horizon, craning his head a little as if trying to listen something. "It is your choice."

The undead stared at the Death incarnate with his eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. Ignotus did not comment on the undead's state. Coming out of his shock, the undead's shoulders sagged in defeat. "You are not going to tell me are you?" He asked, more like admitted to himself.

"It is not for you to know child." Ignotus replied calmly. There was no need for the child to know that Fate did herself no favors when she tried to take control over other eternal entities. "Now, anyway." He added too softly for the undead to hear.

"Decide now child." Ignotus spoke aloud. "What would your path be?" He did not say anything more and remained quiet while the undead contemplated. He did not want to influence the undead's decision.

There was not much for undead to ponder upon. His life had been hell; there were only a few things that he could really relate to. So, if there was a chance that he could change everything, then why wouldn't he. "What do I need to do?"

Ignotus smiled again, though this time it was not a sad smile. "You would be trained in our ways. You'll learn to follow the rules of Death's children. You'll be fair. You'll be even. You'll be the beginning. You'll be the ending. You'll not rush. You'll not wait. You'll not forgive and you'll not forget."

The undead nodded glumly, but tried to get an answer for question that had been nagging him. "I have already made my choice. Did I not?" He asked the death incarnate, waiting for confirmation.

Ignotus nodded, knowing what the undead wanted to ask and allowed him to continue. Receiving the approval the undead continued. "Since I had already made my choice, Thanatos could not offer me the fifth choice; the choice of being a reaper." Ignotus nodded again; maybe this undead was not as slow as they had considered him, after all.

A frown marred the forehead of the undead as he voiced his question, "If Thanatos could not offer me the fifth choice then how can he offer me this sixth choice now? Ain't my fate decided?"

"Being Death Incarnate is not a choice." Ignotus replied in a calm voice. "It is an honor bestowed upon a choice few in between many millennia's." He eyed the horizon carefully, as if searching for something or someone. "It is upon Thanatos and Thanatos alone, who becomes Death Incarnate and no force, no matter how powerful –not even the Creator himself- has a say in it."

Ignotus frowned as he searched the horizon. "This honor, when bestowed upon a soul, revokes any ties, any binds that the spirit previously had." He then turned to face the undead again. "And Thanatos, chose you to bestow that honor upon." '_For my sake.'_ He added mentally. "So respect it. And prove yourself worthy of this honor."

The weight of what had been offered to him; suddenly fell on the undead's shoulders. He understood why Thanatos had wanted to give him the title first, but had later refused vehemently.

Ignotus gave a small smile as he again stared deep in the horizon. "Now, I believe there are people waiting to meet you." He smiled again as the undead looked at him with a blank face. "Your parents Mr. Potter." A sudden smile broke way on the undead's face. "You won't be alone in this."

* * *

Review, Review and Review. Your critical remarks and appreciations are the things that keep the little old me alive ;).


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I thank everyone that reviewed last chapter. Every review, weather good or bad is very precious to me. Special thanls to Far away in Wonderland for his thought out review.

* * *

**Harry Potter And The Vengeance Of Dead**

_Ignotus gave a small smile as he again stared deep in the horizon. "Now, I believe there are people waiting to meet you." He smiled again as the undead looked at him with a blank face. "Your parents Mr. Potter." A sudden smile broke way on the undead's face. "You won't be alone in this."_

* * *

With that, the greatest change of timeline, ever attempted before, began. Harry Potter was reunited with those that he loved, his mother, his father and a little while later, to give the estranged family a semblance of privacy, his godfather. If there had been a semblance of time for the dead, the reunion of Harry Potter with his parents would have not lasted long, no more than a few months.

It was weird for Harry at first, to just exist without feeling any change in anything. Everything was just the way it was. To Harry it all seemed…very constant. Though, it mattered not to him. He had met his parents for the first time, for all that mattered anyway.

Harry had so much to do. He had to get to know them. To know what kind of people his parents were. He had to talk to them, about himself, his life and many other things. He had to get their opinion on things that mattered and on things that did not. He had to bridge the gap between him and his parents. And so as the things remained constant, the estranged family talked and talked and talked. Though it had been strange at first but Lily had slowly eased Harry with her calming presence, her soft caring nature and by just being herself.

It may have been the first time for Harry but it was not so for his parents. It was worse for them. Even though James and Lily Potter may have died, they had kept watch on their son. They had seen the life that their only child had lived; the situations he was forced in, the decisions he was manipulated in while they had been able to do nothing but watch.

So the reunion was a teary eyed affair. They talked, they laughed, they cried and they raged. They did every other thing that they should have done, had James and Lily lived. They did what was natural for them to do i.e. they acted like a family.

As everything was constant for them so the Potter's should have run out of conversations at some point but their conversations never ended, after all, when you don't have mortal need and have no sense of time as time just does not exist, what is there to tell you that you have talked enough. And for a family that has suffered as much as this one, there was nothing to make them stop.

So, after what would have seemed like many months to any mortal, the Potter's finally asked Sirius to join their little group; a request which Sirius was way too glad to oblige. With Sirius joining the Potter's, another round of family reunion started. They talked about all the things that Harry had done, all the things that he had suffered and they made sure that Harry did not feel burdened by the mistakes he was forced to make.

But unfortunately, all good thing must come to an end and so did the reunion of the Potter family. After all, a rewrite of timeline was to be attempted so there were things that needed to be done and magycs that needed to be taught. But for Harry it was the first time in his life that he learned under the guidance of people who loved him and people he loved back.

All though, time does not matter to those that have already departed; it exists for those that live, yet to Harry, it seemed that it took him forever to gain Thantos' approval. It was not easy, Thantos was not someone who was pleased easily; he was The Death after all.

Harry's progress in impressing Thantos was slow, slower than the pace of slug to say the least, it was so slow that it could almost be said as nonexistent, but fortunately for him, it was there.

Harry did not know what it would take for Thantos to approve of him. What it was that Thantos was waiting for him to learn, to give his approval? The answer always eluded him and his parents. And whenever he asked Ignotus, the man always evaded the topic. Once, after one too many efforts on Harry's part, the masquerader of death had relented and told him that he would know what it was, when he finally accepted all the faults that belonged to Harry Potter.

It made no sense to Harry then and it did not make sense to him, for what he felt was a very long time. But it did begin to make sense to him when Harry found that he could not relate to the undead, that had materialized in The Realm and had met Thantos for the first time, anymore. But he understood it completely, when he began to see Harry Potter as someone other than the person he had now become.

As Harry learned and improved, the permanent scowl that Thantos seemed to throw in his direction, every time the materialization of Death saw him, seemed to lessen, bit by bit.

What Thantos had been waiting, was for Harry to accept the ways of Death and implement them to himself. To mold himself such that, he would be fair; he would be even; he would be the beginning; he would be the end; he would not rush; he would not wait; he would not forgive and he would not forget.

And finally, recently Thantos had smiled at him. It was a very little smile, just a twitch at the end of his lips, but it was a smile. The smile that had shown Thanatos's approval had slowly grown until Thanatos had finally worded his approval rather than just showing it.

Harry's train of thoughts was broken as a knock resounded on the door of his room. Harry turned away from the window and found his father standing at the door.

"Are you ready son?" James Potter asked. Thantos had finally deemed Harry ready to be sent back and fulfill his mission. James Potter was proud of his son but was sad at the moment too. Though he hid his feelings well. It would not do for him to weaken Harry's resolve now.

"Yes Dad." Harry smiled and replied calmly. If he had been his former self, Harry would have never replied as he did. He would have given a non committal response such as 'I guess so' while broadcasting his confusion and emotions for the whole world to see.

As it was, Harry was not the same person he had been when he was alive. He had changed; he had grown as he was supposed to rather than being stuck in the same personality for eternity. Harry really never understood why he never changed and grew as a person, all the time he had been alive. He had asked Ignotus but the man had as usual, had evaded the question.

Initially every time Ignotus did not answer him, Harry was reminded of Dumbledore and that thought just pissed him off. After one too many non answers, Harry exploded and the shouted at Ignotus for all that it was worth. Ignotus heard everything that Harry had to say quietly and when Harry had finished his rant, Ignotus had given him the answer of why his questions were not being answered.

Ignotus had told Harry that day, that no one was supposed to answer any of Harry's questions. Ignotus had said that it was Harry's journey of self discovery and it was his alone, no was supposed to help him. He had told Harry that every action had a consequence and those consequences helped him in growing into a new person.

Ignotus had then continued and said that even Harry's outburst that day, will also have a consequence that would help him change and grow as a person. Ignotus told him that Harry's outburst broke any fear of authority that Harry might have had. After all, if one could shout at Death and live to tell the tale then what else was there to be scared of?

"Come on then, Thantos is waiting downstairs." James told his son and again broke his son's train of thoughts.

Harry and James descended down the stairs and Harry's eyes fell on his mother. She was smiling brightly at him but her eyes were moist. She was sad that her son had to go. He walked next to her and took her hand in his own. "I'll call you both to me very soon." He told her quietly. "Worry not mum."

Lily smiled widened and James grin grew even more at his son's words. Harry walked over to Sirius and his godfather a hug. Sirius patted his back and let Harry go, allowing him to walk over to Thantos.

"Thank you for giving me this chance." Harry said to Thantos, his gratitude showing in his sincerity. After all, it was not every day that anyone gets a chance to relive their whole lives. Even though Harry was overwhelmed with gratitude, there was a feeling of bitterness that was creeping up on him too. And this feeling was due to the fact that he would be unable to save his parents lives.

Harry had assumed that when he was being given a chance to relive his whole life, that it would include from the moment he was born, but unfortunately for him, it was not so. Ignotus had explained to him when it finally came up. The death incarnate had told Harry though that the lives of his parent's would have been a short one even without the Prophesy. He had told the soon to be mortal that James and Lily Potter had died because they had fulfilled the aim of their lives.

Harry had not liked the answer; he had not liked it at all and had decided to bring back his parent to him, one way or the other. He knew that dead could not be revived hence that was not an option but he was the Master of Death after all. Even though the title was misleading he still could use the Resurrection Stone.

"The chance was always yours, Mr. Potter. It was you who was not ready for it." Thantos answered as he smiled at the young man. The child had changed so much. "Let's not delay any more than necessary. Kronos is waiting outside." Thantos continued before anyone could question him on his comment.

The group exited the house that was situated in the landscape belonging to James. James and Lily had worked on both their landscapes. They had changed the one that belonged to James into their little adobe while the one belonging to Lily had been changed into beautiful orchard for some peace and quiet.

The group crossed over and reached the boundary of the landscape belonging to Harry. Harry had worked a bit on his landscape too. The land no longer seemed dead and infertile instead it was covered in sheets of fresh green grass all over. There were trees splattered all across the land. Their leaves shifted and moved as a quiet breeze ran across the landscape. Birds chirped lightly while a cuckoo sang in the distance.

A man stood in the shadow of a tree, seemingly enjoying the wind, the peace and the quiet. He was dressed in beautiful blue robes that would fit well in any pureblood society. "Harry Potter" The man announced. "Do step in." Harry turned to face Thantos.

Thanatos' gentle voice carried itself over the air to him as he reminded Harry of a well debated topic. "The choice will not be yours Mr. Potter." Thantos reminded the soon to be mortal once again. "You can try all you want but it's his and his decision alone." And then Thantos nodded at the young man.

Harry understood the message but choose not to reply. Instead he turned back and stared at the man standing in front of him. _'So this is Kronos.'_ Harry thought. The ancient entity had taken up an appearance of a man in his mid thirties. His features were soft but had an edge to them that signified weariness.

To keep the matter about time travel secret, Kronos had yet not met with Harry as according to him, there had been no need to. Kronos had not wanted to tip off the Fates and had been extremely careful, even in his dealings with Thantos.

Harry entered in his landscape and moved towards Kronos. As he neared the manifestation of time, he noticed something odd. A few particles of something golden were splattered across the grass here and there. There was no pattern to them, blown with the wind as they were.

As Harry further reached Kronos, the golden particles that were splattered across the grass increased and started covering the grass specs. Slowly the amount of golden sand increased even more and grass blades were submerged beneath the golden sand.

Finally reaching the man, Harry found all the area near the manifestation of time covered in the swirling sea of golden sand. It swirled, it twisted and it moved, all the while its movement created a quiet and soothing sound of sand moving against sand.

Harry looked up at Kronos and found the ancient entity looking at him. The manifestation smiled at the undead gently. "Enter the pond Mr. Potter." He commanded lightly.

Kronos closed his eyes again and tilted his head up. He slowly raised both his hands and Harry felt a surge of power in the air so strong that it almost knocked him over. Threads after threads began materializing out of thin air, passing through the body of the ancient entity. They varied in color, in shape, in size and in material.

The threads passed through Kronos, piercing his body as they did so. They covered his entire body; there was nothing that was left bare. Soon the body of a man could not be seen at all; all that was visible, was human shaped river of threads that ran from infinity to infinity.

At some places those threads clashed horribly while at some places they complemented each other beautifully. At some places they dulled the threads around them while at some places they brightened the threads around them. They were ugly if you looked at them that way. They were beautiful if you looked at them that way. _'They are threads of life.'_ Harry realized. "Remember to pay the price Mr. Potter." Kronos reminded Harry with his eyes still closed.

Harry was so absorbed in observation of the threads that he did not notice when golden sand started snaking around his body. But he did feel it when something rubbed against his hands and he looked down only to find that he was covered in golden sand till his waist.

He turned his head back and looked at Thantos to see if he should do anything but the ancient entity just nodded again. Harry turned and watched in fascination as the sand rose and covered him. He looked like a golden statue in the midst of a golden field.

Soon Harry was covered till neck in the golden sand and lost consciousness thereafter, but to those observing him, the scene looked nothing different. The sand rose higher and covered Harry's head. There was not a part of him visible. All was covered in gold.

The rest of the sand rose in the air, swirling as it did so. It moved in circular pattern around the pond and then all of a sudden it exploded. For every single grain of golden sand, a thousand more appeared, rivers of sand flowed everywhere. This golden sand ran across the landscape that belonged to Harry, covering every inch, every surface. It snaked around the train of threads and soon had it covered too. There was nothing to be seen but swirling molten gold.

The swirling of the sand increased as the sand increased its pace. It ran faster, it twisted faster and it swirled faster. All those watching felt as the air was filled with massive inflow of magic again. The magic leaped and bounced in the air and every surface. It bounces and multiplied till it overwhelmed the landscape caused the sand to swirl faster; making it appear more and more like flowing rivers of molten gold.

Slowly the magic receded and the swirl of sand slowed. It reached its normal pace again and started to retreat back to the pond of its origin. But it did not retreat alone. As the sand left an area, the land beneath it came into light. It was no longer covered in the sheets of beautiful grass. The land was back to the dead and grey one, as it had been when Harry had first arrived. The sand had taken the magic belonging to Harry Potter with it.

Slowly all the sand was back in the pond along with everything the landscape previously had. There was no sheet of grass anywhere, no tree in the sight and the air was as still as a stone. A shape took form from golden sand and began to rise. Soon its form of a man was complete and it slowly solidified into the lone figure of Kronos. Landscape was dead and Harry Potter was gone. Sand had left with Harry's magic and had taken Harry with it. He no longer resided in the land of the dead. He was alive again.

-o0o0o00o0o0o-

Hagrid bend down to pick up the crying baby amongst the rumble of the destroyed house. Poor boy had his eyes closed and kept squirming in his place as he cried for his parents. Hagrid's heart melted at the sight.

Hagrid gently picked the baby up and the toddler stopped squirming at once. The child stopped his cries and his eyes snapped open. The action was so ridiculous on a toddler that Hagrid blinked once and then blinked again just to clear his head, to tell himself that he was just imagining things. But the toddler kept staring at him with those wide green eyes, making him feel uncomfortable.

Hagrid heard a rumble, a sign that something was moving from behind him and turned to face the intruder. He searched for the source of noise and his eyes fell on a haggard looking Sirius Black. The man was staring at the destruction with wide eyes, his mouth was slightly ajar but no sound escaped from it. He kept turning his from one side to another, unable to believe what he saw in front of him.

Sirius Black could not believe his eyes. The destruction that was rampart everywhere could not be possible. He was gone for just one day on an Order mission, just one day. How could this have happened in one day? How could James and Lily have died in one day that he was not there to protect them.

Sirius was broken out of his mental tirade by the sight of Harry in Hagrid's huge arms. "Hagrid?" Sirius called the half giant in confusion. "What are you doing with Harry?" He asked as he frowned.

As if the voice of the Black scion was some sort of charm, the toddler cradled in the half giants arm began to cry the moment he heard the dog animagus's voice.

"Dumbledore's orders." Hagrid sniffed in his booming voice and wiped a fat tear that was rolling down his cheek, on his sleeve. "Asked me to bring 'arry to 'im. 'e did." The half giant answered.

The child in Hagrid's arm started crying even louder at Hagrid's answer. It was as if little Harry understood what Hagrid had just been said and did not want to go. The crying child raised both his hands and looked towards his godfather with pleading eyes, asking to be taken away from the big man. "Give him to me Hagrid." Sirius said as he watched his godchild asking for him.

Hagrid frowned at the Black scion and gripped the child tighter. "Dumbledore asked me to bring 'arry to 'im. Directly." Hagrid repeated.

Startled by the answer, Sirius did not had time to get angry as next few words were out of his mouth on their own. "I am his Godfather Hagrid and Harry's asking for me." He said and then pointed towards the still crying toddler. "See." He then continued in a more stern voice. "Now hand him over."*

Hagrid was about to react when the toddler started to squirm and almost managed to fall out of his grip. "Careful!" Sirius cried as Harry almost fell but the half giant managed just in time. Hagrid looked down at the crying toddler, who was trying to reach his godfather and was constantly squirming to so.

The toddler turned to face the half giant, as if he had felt Hagrid's gaze on him. He stopped crying and stared at Hagrid with his big green eyes. His lips quivered, threatening another bout of crying form the child. The toddler then turned away for the half giant and again started reaching for his godfather.

Hagrid hesitated, the child clearly wanted to be with Sirius but he had Dumbledore's orders to follow, he was confused. He saw as the child kept squirming to reach Sirius and his heart melted. Well, Sirius could have him for a little while and then he would take little Harry over to Dubmledore. "Alright." Hagrid answered. "But you return 'im quick; I have t take 'arry to Dumbledore."

Sirius gave the half giant an extremely irritated look, as if he would hand over Harry after taking him away from Hagrid. "Just hand him over." Sirius said in annoyance.

Hagrid handed over the toddler to Sirius. As soon as Sirius took the toddler in his arms, the child stopped crying; instead, he stared at his godfather with big green eyes and a toothless smile while he made all sorts of baby noises.

Now that Harry was in Sirius' arms, his attention was once again on all his friends that had died tonight. He felt hollow, now that his friends were gone. James, Peter and Lily dead, just like that. As if sensing the sadness that had befallen his godfather, little harry stopped smiling and started squirming to gain his godfather's attention. Sirius lowered his gaze to look at the squirming child and started rocking him lightly.

Sensing that Sirius was still trapped in his sorrow, lithe Harry started crying, asking for attention. Sirius cupped Harry's head and patted it lightly. "I know Harry, I know." He said to the crying child. "James, Lily and Peter gone. All gone." Harry started crying even louder after Sirius' comment. As if he disagreed with what had been said.

"What are ya' talking about?" The half giant asked Sirius, his voice heavy with sadness. "It is 'ard enough with James and Lily gone. Don't ya' add Peter to the list."

Sirius looked at the half giant sadly. He hated to be the one to break it to Hagrid but if you-know-who had attacked Potters, then there was no way Peter was still alive. You-know-who would have tortured the secret out of him. "I am sorry to say this Hagrid," Sirius said. "But Peter would already be dead. He would have been killed yesterday before you-know who attacked James and Lily." Really, there was no other way for it to be possible.

Half giant gave Sirius an odd look and then gave him a look of sadness and pity. "James death 'as gone to your 'ead Sirius." Hagrid informed Sirius gently. Happy to tell the man that at least one of his friends had survived. "Peter is alive. I just saw him today." Hagrid said. Not realizing that what he had intended as good news was not a good news at all for Sirius. "He seemed quite shaken with everything that happened though but was otherwise alright."

Sirius froze, his brain stopped working and his body went unnaturally stiff for a moment and then it restarted. _'Peter was alive? Peter was alive! But…but…how could it be? It wasn't possible. How…how did he survive? James and Lily dead…Peter alive?'_ Sirius' thoughts were all over the place. He just couldn't comprehend the fact that Pettigrew had betrayed them. He danced around the real reason subconsciously and tried searching for some alternate reason but he could come up with none.

Slowly, all chips started falling into place and though he did not want to, Sirius had to face the truth. Pettigrew had betrayed them. Pettigrew had betrayed James and Lily. Pettigrew was the reason James and Lily were dead.

As the realization hit Sirius, his expressions began to change. His sad and soft face turned stony, his demeanor became cold and his eyes obtained a wild look. He was going to kill Pettigrew.

Sirius was broken out of his stupor by the loud wail the baby he was rocking. His eyes fell on little Harry and his line of thoughts changed. He could not take Harry with him to kill Pettigrew. That would be dangerous for the toddler. The line of thought continued, causing Sirius a lot of confusion. He wanted to kill Pettigrew but could obviously not take Harry with him.

Hagrid watched as the expressions on Sirius' face change and turn murderous. He did not like the change in the man's attitude in the least and he was not going to leave little Harry with a man wearing such and expression. Besides, he had Dumbledore's orders to follow. "Alright enough!" Hagrid boomed in his loud voice. "Dumbledore asked me to bring 'arry to him. Now give him back."

Sirius hesitated and contemplated his options. On one hand, he did not want to give Harry up. But while the toddler was with him, he could not go to hunt Pettigrew. On the other hand if he gave Harry up, he could hunt down Pettigrew and kill the rat. He could always pick Harry from Dumbledore later.

Sensing the decision Sirius was about to make, the toddler increased his wails, his tiny fists clutched the robes of his godfather with all their might.

Making his decision at that moment, Sirius handed the crying toddler to the half giant. "I'll see you soon little guy." Sirius whispered in the toddler's ears as he forced his robed out of the child's fists. "And when I see you next, your parents betrayer would be dead. I promise you that." With that Sirius gave Harry up. He turned to the half giant and gestured toward his motorcycle. "Use it." He said. "It's much faster and safer."

Harry Potter watched as his godfather gave him up and went on a doomed mission to hunt down Pettigrew. He had tried everything he could; he had cried, he had smiled, he had pouted, he had done everything a baby could do but it was for naught. Sirius was wound up way too tight in the net spun by the Fates. He was way too impulsive to not fall in the trap laid out for him.

Harry wanted to cry and he did. The wails and cries of the child kept on increasing, no matter what the half giant did to calm the child. He had done everything he could but yet he had failed to save his own godfather from the terrible fate. He knew he could not save everyone but he had wanted to save Sirius. He had wanted to deny what Thantos had said, he had wanted to prove those words wrong. But in the end, Thantos had been correct. It was Sirius' decision and no one else's.

_('The choice will not be yours Mr. Potter. You can try all you want but it's his and his decision alone.')_

-o0o0o00o0o0o-

A man watched from the shadows as a child was left on the doorstep of a house like a bottle of milk. He shook his head at the stupidity of the mortals and especially at the stupidity that this mortal emanated. This mortal was the crux of some of the most revolting plans surrounding magical Britain. This single mortal was the reason why many innocent men and women died.

He watched as the man Dumbledore and the women McGonagall, left the child on a doorstep and apparated away. His eyes fell on the basket which contained a newly orphaned Harry Potter. He stepped out of the shadows as he took a step forward and in the next second was standing near the basket, looking at the troubled face of the sleeping child. The scowl was so out of place on the face of the toddler that it almost made the man laugh.

Shaking the ridiculous thoughts away, Ignotus looked around the neighborhood, as if searching for something. His eyes finally came to rest on an innocent looking patch of grass near the neatly trimmed rose bushes of the house he was standing in front of.

He stared at the point with an unnatural amount of interest. He waited for few moments; the thing was buried deep. Finally he saw something emerge from the soil; it was a small square cube about one inch square area. He lifted his hand up and opened his fists. The cube slowly rose up in the air and silently floated towards him.

With the stone cube in his hands, he analyzed it carefully. To anyone else it would look like any other square cube, but to him, it looked anything but ordinary. This piece of stone was the centerpiece that held the wards around Private Drive together; it was the ground piece on which the wards were anchored.

He turned the stone over in his hands and softly rubbed his thumb against the cool surface of the stone. It seemed to sizzle under his touch as runes after runes started to appear and began forming arrays of runes. The arrays continued appearing and slowly started glowing with a light that was color of bluish white. And as the arrays lengthened, the glow became brighter.

The scene would have been quite pretty, if a liquid wouldn't have started pouring out of runes at that moment. The liquid was pasty to touch and was dark in color, but in the glow of runes, it shined red. Ignotus held in a grimace as the liquid continued pouring out of the stone and kept collecting in his palm. Gradually the glow started dimming and with it flow of liquid lessened and finally stopped. Ignotus wanted to grimace because he knew what the red liquid was. It was red, it was pasty to touch and it was not hard to guess what the liquid was. It was blood.

As the blood stopped pouring and the glow of the runes faded, Ignotus felt the blood wards, start to disintegrate. He smiled at that. It was the one fault of these stones; to maintain the wards, a constant supply of magic was needed, magic that they did not have. So to provide these stones with continuous supply of magic, the stones need to be buried deep, so that the anchor is in constant contact with lay lines for power. But once the power source was removed, these anchors were left as nothing but fancy stone squares, unable to sustain the ward.

As stated earlier, usually the source of power for the ward anchors are lay lines, but in his great wisdom, Dumbledore had forgone the obvious choice and decided that little Harry would be the source of power because it was blood wards that he was casting, hence the use of blood in the anchor. It was for many other foolish mistakes like these, that blood magic was originally restricted and then later termed as dark to stop wizards from using it.

As the wards around Private Drive finally fell, Ignotus felt a sudden sense of ease in the air. He knew what had happened; the wards to increase aggression had also fallen with all the other wards. He had known what Dumbledore had wanted to do by making every one in Private Drive aggressive towards the infant. Dumbledore had wanted young Harry mellow and easily moldable. And the only way to do so, in his eyes, was to make Harry dislike - not hate, never hate; hate is a very strong word- the muggles and muggle world.

Shaking himself out of his musing, Ignotus vanished the blood with a mental command and started rubbing the surface of the stone softly with his thumb. His touch seemed to have an effect on the anchor as the runes altered, moved and shifted, forming a different array than the previous one.

Finally, after being satisfied with his work, he straightened his palm and felt as the weight of the stone was slowly lifted off his hands. The anchor hovered in the air above his hand and then slowly levitated itself back over to its original hiding place. It sank in, leaving behind no trace that anything had ever dug its way up.

Far away in Scotland, Albus Dumbledore had just entered his office. He had returned with Minerva wanting to finish one last thing before he joined in the celebrations. And that last thing was, to enchant his silver devices to monitor the wards at Private Drive.

But unfortunately for Dumbledore, he had been distracted as soon as he had arrived by the insistent staff that had been waiting for him. Everyone was so happy with the end of the dark reign that they had not wanted to listen to any of Albus's excuses. Instead they had been very insistent and very stubborn. And as such, it had taken Dumbledore some time to dissuade the staff from their goal and persuade them to let him go. Thus he was a few minutes late in enchanting his silver monitoring devices. He gave it no thought that something might have happened in the few minutes that he had been unable to monitor the wards. '_It was not as if someone would be able to remove my wards and cast new ones, in such a short time.'_ He had thought. Oh how wrong he was.

Ignotus smiled as he felt the anchor take effect and the wards go up. This new set of wards was one of the last things that he would do for the time traveler, after that Harry Potter was all alone. Though he did not like the idea but he had to agree with Thantos. After all, if even after knowing all the events that would take place and about the loyalties of everyone around him, Harry needed help from an outside source, then the effort was really not worth it.

Ignotus had not liked that his descendent had to go through another round of test but there was little he could do about it. Who was chosen to be personification of Death, was a decision that was made solely by Thantos and if Thantos wanted Harry to go through another round of test, then Harry had to go through another round of test.

In all fairness, Ignotus had been through many tests himself. His first had been to ask for the right gift; a test which his brothers had failed. His second test had been the usage of his gift; a test which Ignotus had passed too when he had willingly given up the cloak to his son, after living a long enough life.

Sighing, Ignotus walked over to basket in which the young time traveler slept. He noticed the troubled expressions on the face of the toddler and raised an eyebrow. The eyes of the toddler flew open and searched for the source which had broken his troubled sleep. The tiny eyes scanned the area and fell on the man standing over his basket.

As the eyes of the toddler fell on the man standing in front of him, a heavy sadness seemed to materialize in eyes of the child. The sight was so sad that Ignotus felt a stab of pity in his heart for the time traveler. "Do not dwell on things out of your control Harry." Ignotus said with pity evident in his voice. "Dwelling on such things only leads to the destruction of everything else." He reminded the time traveler.

Though pity was not what Harry needed, it was the only thing that Ignotus could provide. Though their relationship had improved from what it had been when they had first met, the similarity between Dumbledore's actions and Ignotus's actions was not something that had helped their tumulus friendship. Thus it was suffice to say that their relationship was not that of any two people who were very close or just close in any sense.

The toddler looked up with tear in his eyes. Ignotus held back a sigh and tried to placate the time traveler. "It was his decision and he gave you up Harry." Ignotus continued wearily. "Thantos did warn you Harry. There was nothing for you to do, even though you tried your best, going against his advice."

With tears still visible in his eyes, the toddler lowered his gaze. Harry knew it was Sirius's decision but he had wanted Sirius by his side, not rotting away in Azkaban. He had wanted Sirius with him as he grew up. He had wanted Sirius with him. He had wanted Sirius with him. He wanted Sirius. He wanted Sirius. He wanted Sirius with him.

Though Harry had not realized it yet, his though process was not very efficient at the moment. It was due to the fact that Harry's soul had been thrown back in time. Thus it was effectively two souls that were residing in one body at that moment and since both those souls were of Harry Potter, they had begun the process of merging. As such, he had two set of minds, two set of instincts, two set of magic cores and two sets of memories merging together to form a new compound soul.

The point to note, about this Merging of souls, was that this process would continue till the original soul reached the age of the older soul. That means that, with the passage of time, the soul that had belonged to toddler would grow and mature with body and merge with the older one. Hence Harry would have memories and experience of his older self but his personality would always be somewhere in between his original age and the age of the older soul until the process was complete.

It was not as if Harry had not been warned of such a happenstance. It was just that when Harry had arrived in his body, the first person he had seen was Hagrid. With the half giant in sight, the first thought that had crossed his mind was that Sirius was going to Azkaban. And that thought had stuck around leaving no room for any other thing. At that moment Harry had stared openly at the half giant, panicking and thinking of ways he could stop Sirius's downfall to hell on earth.

Although it had initially been just a thought, it had turned into reality, when Sirius had given Harry up to the half giant. The emotions that had surfaced in him, at being abandoned by his godfather, were the emotions of a toddler that had been triggered due to memories of an adult. Thus the emotions had overwhelmed him at that moment, as all a toddler feels is emotions and nothing else. It was all so confusing and convoluting that Harry had been unable to think of anything else.

Hence, even after somewhat hesitant words of compassion from Ignotus, Harry Potter could still not accept the idea of his godfather rotting away in Azkaban. His little eyes were filled with unshed tears and his thoughts focused on his godfather.

"It's time Mr. Potter." Ignotus reminded the time traveler gently. "Let's wake your relatives up."

* * *

Now, i'll give you three choices:

1) If you liked it... then review.

2) If you hated it...then review.

3) If you though it was a so so chapter...then review.

So which one will you choose? ;)


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